Regret
by amor-remanet
Summary: It's Remus's seventeenth birthday, and the Marauders are still dealing with The Prank, Sirius most of all. While traversing outside during lunch, he overhears an interesting conversation. SLASH, RLSB.


**Discliamer: **None of these lovely boys are mine, but they'll go back on the shelf when I'm done.

**A/N: **Written for day nine of LJ's Tell Me A Kiss challenge; prompt of the day was "faerie(s)."

Sirius goes outside after Charms instead of going to lunch. Today just…what with James siding with Flitwick and Remus barely talking to him and Peter taking Divination there instead because he just _barely_ passed the OWL…yeah, he needs some bloody fresh air. Maybe it'll clear his head, maybe not, but he just needs to be out of that castle. It's March tenth, Remus's seventeenth birthday, and everything has decided to turn green just in time for his coming of age. Sirius left him a present earlier, right before he left to grab breakfast early because he couldn't sleep…and it's pretty nice, he thinks: a leather briefcase with "RJ Lupin" written on it in gold leaf (and "Professor," which Peter and the new first years have taken to calling him) and two huge slabs of Honeyduke's Best (and one of their Special Dark) inside it. But Remus probably doesn't care. Only Peter's forgiven Sirius for The Prank (or that's what he calls it) yet, and, at that, only because he does whatever James and Sirius say. Granted, no one spurred him to reach out with mercy, he didn't have to, but, either way, he's the one whose opinion matters least, except maybe Snape…but no one _likes_ Snape, so he doesn't count.

Apathetically trying to fume, Sirius trudges through the damp grass, wishing it were sentient so he could make it hurt. But a blade of grass still has _friends_ who _care_ about it, not like him. And he couldn't give his punishment to something that only takes pain; even if it is just grass, it isn't fair. And, being honest with himself, he knows he doesn't deserve to be a Marauder anymore, but he still wants to hate James and Remus for being self-righteous, holier-than-thou pillocks and throwing him to the goddamn dogs over something so bloody stupid like The Prank. It's not enough that he's got no family, but now he has to have no friends too? Whatever happened to Marauder solidarity, and "together forever" "I think so," and plans for all of them to stand up James and Evans's wedding, since, eventually, she's bound to come around? And it's all because he "could've killed Snape." Way to be _hypocrites_, Messrs. Moony and Prongs! They don't like Snape either, but no! Sirius Black, disowned runaway, pulls _one_ prank on the git that was _meant_ to be harmless, and, suddenly, his only ties to the world are Wormtail and Slughorn, who's pretty much the _only_ teacher who doesn't think he's fucking lost it.

Well…Dumbledore probably doesn't think he's lost it, but Dumbledore lets werewolves and people like Snape come to Hogwarts, so he bloody well doesn't count. And Slughorn's a smarmy prat who practically worships the ground touched by Black feet, among many other Pureblood families, so he doesn't count either, even if he is more accessible than the Headmaster. And he _is_ trying to understand Sirius and keep him on Earth at least until the end of term…but he still doesn't count.

Sirius grumbles and leans belligerently back into a tree, glaring daggers at the sky and cursing it for daring to be so bright. Even the clouds don't really matter, since they're light and fluffy and make everything look _so_. _ Bloody_. _ Idyllic_. But it's not idyllic, or any of idyllic's synonyms either, at least not for Sirius. He half-heartedly wishes for the sky to fall, but only on him; it's better than being alive, but with no friends. In fact, Evans can bloody well come around and date James already; he doesn't _care_ anymore. They can just forget about him and get married, and have sprogs, and grow old together…it's that much easier for him now that saving that mangy Slytherin git's life made him _grow up_ (same can't be said for Snape, but he had no social skills to begin with). And both the sky and his better judgment tell him that he's being a git, prat, and all-around idiot, that he really doesn't think this, he's just sulking because he hates losing. And being told that one of the _few_ reasons he isn't expelled is because Slughorn managed to worm out the story about why he's living with James and his parents now, and proceeded to pull the "emotional distress excuse" ace out of his sleeve…_that_ definitely counts as losing.

It's even worse that he can't even face his "best mate forever," and spent Christmas alone, at Hogwarts, staring at the Common Room fire and languishing on the couch. He only dragged himself out for food and Firewhiskey, and he was drunk when Remus, James, and Peter came back from their nice Christmases with people who _love_ them. The best things he got were simpering from the House Elves and a letter and cookies from Andromeda and Ted…and the worst look ever from Remus. In his drunkenness, he couldn't decipher whether it was one of shock, pity, and horror, or one of bitterness and contempt, so he shambled up to bed and tried to forget it. He hasn't managed that yet, and he doubts that he can, but he knows that it's a good reason to support Remus's decision to not talk to him; he can't bear the thought of getting another look like that, drunk or sober. When James went off on him for being everything from "irresponsible" and "a jolly rotten best mate" to "arsebasket" and "a right fucking git," he didn't fight back, merely affirmed the accusations, hoping that Remus wouldn't look at him like that; it didn't work.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps and wishes that he had James's Invisibility Cloak, trying to ignore the stab-in-the-heart fact that James doesn't even give him the time of day anymore, let alone something as rare and expensive as a bloody Invisibility Cloak.

"So _fairy_ nice to see _you_ here, Lupin," comes the sneering, sarcastic drawl of one, Severus Snape. Since when does the git have a speech impediment? Sirius hasn't punched him in the mouth since fourth year, back when he had _friends_ and James still thought that he _deserved_ to get punched, which he does.

"Severus, _please_," Remus's voice sighs. "I've got to find Sirius before he does anything stupid."

_Oh, like _you_ care_, Sirius thinks cynically. _Haven't spoken to me since the bloody Christmas holiday got over, and now you're a bloody one-werewolf _search party? _Right_.

"Black's wandered off, hmm? Feeling a bit _queer_?"

The footsteps stop abruptly, on the other side of Sirius's tree; from the sound of it, Remus turns around to look Snape in the eye.

"Or," Snape continues acidly, "perhaps _you_ are?"

"Severus, honestly…why do you _care_?"

"About Black or you, because I don't care about Black."

"About me, obviously. I don't know how you found _out_, but-"

"That you fancy _blokes_, particularly a sullen-tempered little git named Sirius Black? _Please_. You'd have to be _daft_ to miss it."

"Well, that aside-"

"I suppose you're expecting something like 'It's disgusting,' just because I'm a Slytherin, but I could care _less_ about the actual predilections."

"Why do you care at all? I mean, I don't mind you, but you don't really try to hide the fact that you hate me and my friends, so…why does this matter?"

"I don't care, really. It's simply so _intriguing_ that you can't _do_ anything. On the one hand: if you get further into my bad side, I can tell _everyone_ about your 'monthly troubled' or that you want to bugger Black. On the more realistic hand: you can't do anything about yourself."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"And I like making people squirm…it doesn't appear to work on you, but I suppose that _animal instincts_ can't be overwritten with the best education in our world."

Remus sighs again, and he can just leave, but it doesn't sound like he's moving. And Snape doesn't laugh, but he's probably smirking like Hell, the slimy, good-for-nothing git. And…Remus is _gay_? And he likes _Sirius_? Since the fuck _when_? What the Hell is going _on_ here? Wide-eyed, Sirius presses his back to the tree, hoping there'll be a continuation, but there isn't any for some time. They're probably standing there like conflicting warriors, and Remus, being the "loser" of the war of words, will have his head down while Snape leers. Finally, someone steps forward, squelching ominously in a patch of mud.

"I do, however," Snape continued, "question _why_ you'd fall for _him_, especially after his recent actions."

"James, Peter, and Lily don't get it either," Remus explains soberly. "Half the time, I don't understand it myself, but…he gets me. And I think he's in pain, even if he doesn't act like it."

"Oh, he _acts_ like it. And _you're_ dodging the question."

"I _know_ he can be a sulking prat sometimes, and he's not exactly stable, but…he's _there_ for me like no one else-"

"He's capable of _murder_."

"He didn't _mean_ it."

Well, actually, he didn't mean for Snape to die, but…he really doesn't mind the thought of that slimy git getting what's coming to him. He's come to terms as well with the fact that he almost got Remus expelled and, worse, sent to Azkaban, and he didn't _mean_ for that to happen…he wasn't thinking. But it was Snape's fault for ticking him off on a bad day…no. Sirius bites his lip and hangs his head solemnly, his long hair falling listlessly around his face. Everyone's been right about him, haven't they? He's a pillock, a great sulking git, and, all-in-all, Just Another Black…everything he's tried not to be, he is, and the fact that he's in Gryffindor and not Slytherin is just mere, meaningless happenstance. Exhaling heavily, he shuts his eyes; the green grass is too Slytherin, too painful a reminder that he's a pathetic excuse for…anything, really, but, mostly, a friend.

And Remus _still_ likes him? That's just ridiculous…sighing, Sirius pushes himself off the tree and begins to walk away. Whatever Remus says, he can't really mean it. It's brilliant if he _does_, but Sirius knows he doesn't deserve someone like Remus. He's intelligent, kind, and understanding, and he never hurts anything on purpose…and Sirius…is none of those things. _He_ is over-emotional, violent, irrational, and just admitted to himself that he'd not mind seeing Snape die. Remus can do better. But, once again, something brings him back:

"Didn't _mean_ it!" Snape snaps. "How the Hell can you say he didn't _mean_ it? And after that stunt last year?"

"He didn't mean it," Remus affirms moderately. "I know it looks like it to you, and James, but…he wasn't thinking, really."

"I know he hates me, but…you're supposed to be his _friend_! And he could've-"

"He _didn't_ mean it."

Although he tries to resist, Sirius feels his knees buckle beneath him and he falls with a thud to the limbo of wet ground and tree root. Against his will, his head collapses forward, seeking shelter between the overtaxed knees and finding naught but a cold, insubstantial reprieve that did nothing but make the blood rush to his brain. Didn't _mean_ it? Remus thinks he didn't _mean_ it? Of course, he didn't mean for anything to happen to Remus, but…Snape…and something _could've _happened to Remus. His life is already going to be hard because of something he didn't ask for it, but Sirius could've ruined it for him completely. And he's forgiven him silently while, like an idiot, Sirius has been impossibly angry with him.

He lets a bitter laugh slip out at the thought…Remus. Upset enough to not talk to him. What in the Hell has he been _thinking_? Fucking…he's probably scared Remus away, given how he's been acting. And, even worse, Remus is defending him to the person he almost killed, telling Snape what a great bloke he is, and it's the last thing he deserves. He doesn't even try to choke back the tears when they come; he doesn't have the chance to. There's just a sharp inhalation and something warm and wet starts running down his cheeks. With only a slight incline of his head, a few of them dip inside his mouth. They're saltier than anything he's ever tasted…must be the pride.

"Well, well, well," Snape hisses. "Looks like we have an eavesdropper, Lupin."

As soon as the slimy git stops talking, Sirius feels something tugging at one of his hands; out of the corner of his eye and through a layer of splayed hair, he sees the vague hint of Remus holding onto it.

"Severus," he sighs. "Please leave."

"Whatever, Lupin."

And Snape sulks away.

"Sirius," Remus whispers. His voice is soft and warm, even though he has every right to yell at Sirius until he's red in the face. "Sirius, look at me."

Not even caring that he's still crying, Sirius exerts the massive effort to tilt his head up and look at Remus…he actually does look concerned, but, then again, he always does. This time, though, looking at him makes Sirius feel indecent, and he turns his eyes down again. Damn it all, this is what he wants, isn't it? Absolution? It's never hurt to be forgiven before, but, then again, he's never done anything so ridiculously stupid. Remus wraps his other hand around Sirius's one, and he suddenly realizes how cold he is, and Remus's warmth makes it that much more obvious. …Merlin, he hates being cold, but he's only beginning to pay for this; being cold should be the least of his worries. Sighing feebly, he closes his eyes, lowers his head, and tries half-heartedly to pull his hand away…but Remus is persistent and he decides to just give up. Probably too easily, he admits, but he's been a terrible friend; Remus doesn't need any more pain from him.

"_Padfoot_…_please_…"

He's still Padfoot? Only Peter calls him that now, and he hasn't said "Sirius" since the summer. After all, it's hard to be Padfoot when you've just run away and been disowned. And it must be harder to call your tough-guy friend that when he's sitting on a sofa, in a fetal position, at three in the morning, and has just had a stolen bottle of Black Family Firewhiskey (Handed Down from Phineas Nigellus) taken away before he drinks too much more. That was the worst moment of his life until getting That Look from Remus, and, now, even that is rivaled by Remus holding to his hand steadfastly, like they've just found out he has a terminal disease…even a Muggle one. They're not quite lycanthropy, but that shit's nasty. But love might as well be a terminal disease, even if it's as blatantly one-sided as it is here. For once, he actually agrees with Snape: he can't, for all his brightness, figure out what Remus sees in him.

And then, warmness hits him square on the lips. Maybe Remus slapped him…but it feels too nice. Easing his eyes open, he sees just in time that Remus is kissing him – lightly, on the lips, yes, but…not a full-blown snog…they could be really close, dissimilar-looking brothers, for all the outside world knows…and Remus pulls away too soon. Now it's Sirius's turn to take him by surprise. Stretching his neck up and craning it to the proper angle, he kisses back hungrily, desperately clinging and wordlessly begging Remus to forgive him for all the git things he's done over the years. The Prank; bribing him with puppy eyes and chocolate; not telling him about the Animagus plot until they'd done it; losing him on their first trip to Hogsmeade; calling him a nance for reading that Shakespeare bloke, Lord Byron, and Oscar Wilde; talking to him in the first place, thereby making him guilty by association for…everything he's done wrong. And, to think, if that one sixth-year who was late to the Start of Year Feast on their first day hadn't left only a Remus-sized space between himself and Sirius, they might not have become so close.

Sirius is surprised again when Remus readily opens his mouth to his friend's encroaching tongue. It takes him a minute to process it, and, when he does, he pulls away…it's too hard to tell whether Remus is hurt, or in love, or what he's feeling…damn it, Sirius is supposed to be _good_ at this.

"Moo- Rem- Moon," he stammers, choking on his own attempts to decide what name to use. "_Remus_…I'm sorry…for everything."

Remus pecks him on the cheek, "Don't be, Pads. That kiss was the first thing you've meant in months."

"But…I've been…terrible, completely _awful_ just as a friend…are you sure you want me as a boyfriend?"

"Surer than anything I've ever been sure of."

He smiles, and then Sirius sees: he's carrying the briefcase on his shoulder, with the optional strap.


End file.
